


Harbinger (We Are Beyond Death)

by TheWakingWorld



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Crossover, Izuku is the Avatar, he just doesn't know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-06-17 11:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWakingWorld/pseuds/TheWakingWorld
Summary: Izuku has never been able to bend, unlike most of the world. But he is determined to become a hero.(The Avatar is the harbinger of peace, but it seems peace may be a long way off.)





	1. Harbinger

**Author's Note:**

> This idea hit me like a goddamn sledgehammer, and I had to write it down. I thought about the similarities between Todoroki and Zuko, then the similarities between the One For All and the Avatar, then this happened. Help me.

_Harbinger (_ hahr _-bin-jer): one that initiates a major change, a person or thing that originates or helps open up a new activity, method, or technology_

 

     The legend starts simply.

 

     Centuries ago, in an isolated village, there was a conflict between raiders and farmers. The farmers were defenseless against the raiders, who were armed with strange curved swords and military-grade spears. Having been ransacked recently and low on food, the villagers attempted to fight back, only to find blades at their necks and work-worn hands cut and bleeding. Just as a raider sought to end a tired father’s life, his young daughter rushed forward. When they attempted to remove her head from her shoulders, the little girl raised her hands, and something amazing happened. Fire burst from her palms, bright and impossible. The invaders fled, terrified of this strange power she wielded.

 

     Across the world, a child fell from the cliff he’d been playing on to the ground hundreds of feet below. There were screams as his friends watched him tip over the edge, and even more when a whirlwind swept him up and saved his life.

 

     Only miles away, a bullied teenager was pushed down and hit her head on the slippery river rocks. The bullies only jeered when she stared at them through tears with hate-filled eyes. They stopped their laughter when the river rose up to knock them over as well.

 

     In a quiet town with a forgettable name, two children raged at their strict father, who would not let them go play with their friends. The two stomped their feet and yelled, and their tantrum invoked a minor earthquake.

 

     In a week, thousands around the world could control one of the four elements; fire, air, water, and earth. Suddenly, there were children causing havoc all over the world with their strange new powers, and scientists desperately sought for any rhyme or reason to it. Why was this happening? How? Was this the work of a higher power or an explainable science or something else entirely? Was this a gift or a curse?

 

     Scientists argued over origin and technicalities, some citing that only those missing a pinky toe joint could have these elemental powers and others believing it to be a gift from God. However, every scientist agreed that spontaneously gaining power over an element _should_ be impossible. All over the world, the Earth’s best minds worked together to understand this fantastic new phenomenon.

 

     By day sixteen, these extraordinary powers were coined as ‘bending’ by a famous biologist. In a month, all countries and power structures sought to create new laws to account for bending. The struggle to achieve any semblance of order would last for a decade.

 

     It was a strange new world, and it would only get stranger.

 

     Ten years after the first incident, the world was in utter chaos. New, heavy-handed restrictions on bending were difficult to enforce, especially when everyone wanted to use their newfound powers to their own ends. No one wanted to agree to not bend, for it was an amazing power the older had only dreamed of and the younger had embraced as part of themselves. Criminals and heroes alike bended as they pleased, for if one kept using the elements, then the other had to as well.

 

     Out of this maelstrom came the Avatar.

 

     The Avatar was the one and only person capable of bending all four elements, and the only person who had a strong connection to the world of spirits. A naturally fair and good being with no inherent side to take, the Avatar was the harbinger of peace. Slowly but surely, he rose above the confusion and turmoil, and united the world. A new era began, one with the Symbol of Peace there to enforce order and unity. With the Avatar alive, crime was all but snuffed out, and civilization flourished.

 

     When the Avatar died, the world fell into despair. It was a dark time in the Earth’s history, when the people lost hope and criminals regained their long-lost footing. It seemed to be the end of the peace.

 

     Then, five years after the Avatar’s demise, a child capable of bending all four elements came forward. She was but a little girl, but she had an intense desire to help that matched that of her previous incarnation. When she grew old enough to fight, peace reigned for half a century. When she died, another child capable of bending the elements and of identical bearing came forward, and the world understood what had happened.

 

     The cycle of the Avatar continued.

 

* * *

 

     All Might is the greatest Avatar to have ever lived. Or was. It depends on who you ask.

 

     Years ago, the Symbol of Peace disappeared, and many people’s hope went along with him. Avatar All Might had kept the peace for decades, but on one day like any other, he simply vanished. There was no climactic fight on the news or any report of him being injured in any way. All Might was gone, just like that.

 

     Many people believe that All Might died somehow and that the government covered it up as not to cause panic. It’s only logical, as there was no reason for the Symbol of Peace to leave. The Avatar has always found their purpose in saving lives, so there was no way All Might ditched. He had to have died.

 

     Others don’t believe that. All Might not only was an incredible hero that wouldn’t go down without a massive fight, but there was also the fact that no new incarnation of the Avatar ever appeared. It usually only took a few years for the next Avatar to be found, but now, it’s been over a decade. That surely means that All Might is still alive, right?

 

     Forums online theorize otherwise. They say that All Might died, and somehow the cycle of reincarnation was  _broken_. They say that no new Avatar is coming, that the Symbol of Peace had been permanently offed. Many still don’t believe that.

 

     If there is no new Avatar, that means All Might must be alive somewhere. The Avatar has  _never_ failed to reappear since the first Avatar came to be centuries ago. All Might must be trapped somewhere, somehow. The possibility is frightening, but there is no way he would have simply left the populace to fend for itself. He was a true hero, after all.

 

     ( _They were wrong, all of them. The Avatar is alive and well, just not in the way they expected_.)

 

* * *

 

     “Whatcha doin’, Deku? Playing with your imaginary friends?”

 

     A green-haired little boy named Midoriya Izuku shrieked, flailing away from the source of the mocking voice. His arms, already spread out, caught him as he fell down on the grass. He looked up, green eyes wide.

 

     Standing above him, six-year-old Bakugou Katsuki, or as Izuku called him 'Kacchan' smirked. His followers—not friends—cracked up behind him. The one taller than Katsuki pointed at him and made to say something, only to stop himself with a wary look at the blond boy. He ignored them.

 

     “Well?” Katsuki said, leaning into Izuku’s space.

 

     “N-No!” Izuku protested. “I-I wasn’t—I mean, it’s not…”

 

     The green-haired boy shrunk in on himself, cheeks burning with shame.

 

     Katsuki’s smirk turned feral. “What? Were you doing something else?”

 

     The boy who was once Izuku’s friend knew exactly what he was doing. He just wanted the smaller boy to say it.

 

     “No,” Izuku said. He looked down, so he didn’t see the attack sent at his face. Rather, he felt it.

 

     Izuku squeaked and ducked away when he felt the heat, barely avoiding the fireball Katsuki had flung at him. Izuku hastily crab walked away, only to be followed by the blond boy.

 

     “You’re _pathetic_!” Katsuki snarled, demeanor turning on a dime, as always. The boy raised a foot and kicked it out, and this time Izuku wasn’t quite able to avoid the flames. They burned his exposed shins and knees, and Izuku couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. “Don’t forget who you are, _No-Bend Deku_! You’re  _never_ gonna be able to bend. Trying anyway is just pitiful!”

 

     Izuku’s vision blurred with tears as he brought his knees closer. They were only singed pink, but the burns hurt.

 

     “You hear me, Deku?” Katsuki stalked forward threateningly, and Izuku hurriedly nodded his head. He couldn’t look up and see his once-friend’s disgusted face or let him spot Izuku’s tears. He just couldn’t.

 

     “Che. You never even try to fight back. You’re just a waste of space.” With that, Katsuki finally bored of this familiar song and dance, turning on his heel and walking away. His followers snickered and whispered a few extra insults before trailing after Katsuki. Izuku remained curled on the ground even after they left, salty tears falling on burnt knees.

 

     Katsuki was right. He never even tried to fight back, not since the first day he used his fire against Izuku. It scared him, and Izuku didn’t like getting hurt. It was pathetic, wasn’t it?

 

_(Hurting those who hurt you won’t solve anything.)_

 

     Izuku’s face scrunched up as he wiped the tears away with his knuckles.

 

_(Stand, my boy. Do not give up.)_

 

     Clumsily, Izuku made his way back to his feet, wobbling a bit as his legs stung. He wiped the last tears away, looking up to make sure Katsuki and his followers were gone. Only Izuku stood in the grassy field by the park, with the sole exception of an elderly man walking his dog. It was safe now.

 

     Slowly, cautiously, Izuku raised his arms again. He moved them in gentle motions, mimicking what he’d seen the pro-benders on TV do. No one ever taught him any bending style, but Izuku was an observant and tenacious boy. He watched every match he could fervently, carefully sketching the different movements in his notebooks. He had every fighting style he could find recorded, and it was not that difficult to remember the movements of airbending.

 

     His mother, Inko, and her entire family were airbenders. Many on his father’s side were as well, so there stood a very strong chance that Izuku would inherit airbending. If not that, there were also a smattering of firebenders on his father’s side that he should take after. The odds were in Izuku’s favor that he would be able to bend an element.

 

     But he could not.

 

     It became clear this year. Most kids accidentally or purposefully bended an element before they reached four years old. There were many cases of newborns burping fire in their parents’ faces or sneezing so hard all the windows in a house would burst open. It was exceedingly rare for a child who could bend to not show any signs until after four, especially if they deliberately attempted to bend often. The odds of a six-year-old that had been trying his entire life to bend any element being a bender were nearly zero. But Izuku didn’t accept that.

 

     He wanted to bend so badly because Izuku was going to be a hero. He’d been dreaming of it ever since he saw the first video of Avatar All Might saving people. Izuku wanted to help people, he wanted to be someone who could comfort others with a smile and give them hope. More than anything in the world, Izuku wanted that.

 

     According to his society, however, being a hero was impossible if you weren’t a bender.

 

     Izuku knew that it wasn’t that simple, though. It would be impossible for him to become a pro-bender, as bending was a requirement to play the sport, but there weren’t any official rules like that for heroes. Being a hero is about saving people, after all, not hitting people out of a ring with fire or air or water or earth. Anyone could save others with the right strategy, and if there was one thing Izuku was good at, it was strategy.

 

     Still… he wanted to bend so badly, and the possibility of him being a late-bloomer wasn’t quite zero yet. There was still a chance, however slim, that Izuku might develop a type of bending. So even though Katsuki scoffed and the other kids snickered and the teachers shook their heads sadly, Izuku still tried again and again.

 

     And again and again and again and again and again.

 

_(This determination will make him great one day.)_

 

_(This determination will be his undoing.)_

 

* * *

 

      It’s hard not to be bitter.

 

     Every day is a struggle now that he’s reached his teens. Not only because of his hormones but because now even adults are warning him away from heroics. Every time he’s asked the omnipresent question ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Izuku gives his answer, and he is given exasperation and pity and downright annoyance. ‘You’re growing up, you need to be serious about your future’ they tell him, as if he hasn’t put all the thought in the world into his choice. Izuku knows the statistics, and has heard every way to phrase ‘you can’t do it.’ A stern talking to isn’t going to change his mind after all these years.

 

     Worse than this is Katsuki and his peers, who badger him and push him around because they can. Izuku remains firm in his decision to become a hero but finds himself clamming up whenever Katsuki challenges him. All words no action, he says, and Izuku doesn’t think he’s entirely wrong. He just doesn’t want to fight the person who was once his friend, or anyone at all if he doesn’t have to. Conflict always gives him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and cold sweats, as if his body cannot handle it any more than his spirit can. He just can’t find it in himself to fight back, and he’s eventually left to feel useless and alone.

 

     Simply, Izuku does not like his middle school experience so far. Especially now that there’s talk of high school.

 

     “Oh, yes, you are applying to Yuuei as well, aren’t you, Midoriya?”

 

     A beat of silence, then the class as a whole bursts into raucous laughter.

 

     “A non-bender in Yuuei? Give me a break!”

 

     “Oh my god, he’s _still_ clinging to that stupid dream? Get a hint, Midoriya!”

 

     “Just pitiful.”

 

     “Bet they’ll throw him out of the entrance exam the moment they realize he can’t bend.”

 

     Izuku slumps in his seat, staring at his scratched desk. Don’t encourage them, don’t encourage them…

 

     “Give the fuck up, Deku!”

 

     Izuku squeaks at his desk is blasted from under him, skidding into an adjacent one. The teacher yells something, but Izuku is too busy trying not to tremble as Katsuki looms over him. There’s an ugly sneer on his face, one foot still held up from kicking fire at the innocent desk. He looks murderous. Well, more than usual.

 

     “U-Um—”

 

     “I’m gonna be the only student in this shitty school to get into Yuuei,” Katsuki growls, leaning closer and Izuku leaning away. “A weak-ass non-bender like you better stay outta my way.”

 

     Katsuki leans so close his nose is nearly touching Izuku’s, who clamps his mouth shut to keep from saying anything to set the blond off. “Or I’ll fucking kill you.”

 

     “N-No need for that!” Izuku raises his hands, leaning as far away from Katsuki as he can without breaking something. “I-I’m not gonna get in your way, Kacchan.”

 

     Katsuki’s face twists at the nickname, but he doesn’t react to it otherwise. He looks into Izuku’s wide green eyes for another moment before standing straight again. “Whatever, No-Bend Deku.”

 

     The firebender turns and walks back to his seat. Izuku sighs in relief. As does the teacher, who as usual does nothing to reprimand Katsuki.

 

     Izuku hates this. A part of him demands retribution, demands he stand his ground for once. Another larger part argues that that won’t do anything but provoke Katsuki and start a meaningless fight. A tiny part suggests he just beat up Katsuki, which is shot down quickly by the rest of him. There is no clear consensus.

 

     Well, except that this entire situation is several flavors of unfair.

 

     After a long talk on high school choices—pretty much every student is applying for a bending-based program—school finally ends for the day. Izuku hurriedly gathers all his belongings and gets the hell out of dodge, not wanting another fireball in his face courtesy of his old friend.

 

     When Izuku is reasonably far from the school, he sighs heavily and reaches into his backpack. He pulls out his notebook, burned by Katsuki a few days ago but still usable. The green-haired teen grimaces at the sight of it. The entire thing is darkened by both Katsuki’s fire and the water he had thrown it into. The words ‘Hero Analysis For the Future #13’ are barely legible now. He carefully pries the notebook open, trying not to tear the fragile paper. Thankfully the notebook hadn’t been completely destroyed by Katsuki’s fire, which must have taken a lot of control on his part. He certainly damaged it, but it’s far from ruined by Izuku’s standards.

 

     Inside are notes on up-and-coming pro-heroes and pro-benders, their styles and moves and accomplishments listed neatly within. He also has a basic psychological profile on each of them, on the off chance it might be useful one day. There are sketches of their outfits and signature techniques, as well as what he could find of their bending rankings. Izuku doesn’t know how much of his 13 notebooks will be of use, but better prepared than dead.

 

     The fourteen-year-old boy walks under a bridge, focused on reviewing his notes. He’s so entrenched in it, in fact, that he doesn’t sense the danger until it’s too late.

 

     Greenish water rises from the sewer grate, snaring his leg as he passes it. Izuku immediately tries to release himself, but the water rises further.

 

     ( _Kick it off, bend it away.)_

 

 _(He can’t bend. Find the perpetrator, incapacitate them_.)

 

_(Hurry.)_

 

     Izuku tries, but he can barely move his body as he’s encased. Yelling for help doesn’t work for he gags as the horrid smell of the liquid hits him. It’s from the  _sewer_ , disgusting—

 

     “Wimpy, but you’ll do.”

 

     Izuku attempts to look for the source of the voice, only to scrunch his eyes closed as the slimy water covers his face. He can’t breathe.

 

     The boy thrashes, but it’s no good. This waterbender has strong control, and the water is a vice around him. It pushes past his lips, then suddenly Izuku is drowning on dry land.

 

     He can barely hear the voice through the water and the frantic buzzing of his mind. “Sorry, kid. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I need a puppet, and you’re good enough.”

 

     Izuku can’t breathe. He. Can’t. Breathe.

 

     This can’t be it. This can’t be how it ends. What were his fourteen years of living even worth? He never accomplished his dream, he never even started to accomplish it or helped anyone. All he did was wait and wait and wait for something that wouldn’t happen, and now there’s no time left. No, he can’t die here. Not so meaninglessly. He has to get out. What would All Might do? If he couldn’t bend, that is… No, Izuku is dying. He can feel himself _dying_.

 

* * *

 

     White. Everything is white.

 

     “I am sorry.” It is a female voice, light and calming. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, old friend. But it had to be done, for the sake of peace. You had to understand.”

 

     She is a friend, a good one.

 

     “Go, now. I am with you.”

 

* * *

 

      ( _We wake. We are trapped in a prison of another’s crude making. We are no longer strong, we have not fought for too long. But they are weak._

 

_We move. The air bends at our command, slicing through the watery prison cleanly. It tries to ensnare us again, but we are too fast._

 

_We fight. The enemy falls easy, shocked by our power. They are helpless._

 

_We rest. It has been so long since we were one.)_

 

* * *

 

     Izuku sits and stares, soaked in sewer water. A young, rough-hewn man lays unconscious only a foot away, his head bleeding. Izuku stares at him.

 

     He did that. He just broke free and kicked this man in the head. How…

 

     Izuku looks at his hands. They look the same as they always do if a bit scratched up, but he stares in wonder.

 

     He just airbended.

 

     He’s an airbender.

 

     He’s an _airbender._

 

     ( _You are so much more than that, little one._ )


	2. Castigate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m glad people are as excited by this idea as I am : )

_Castigate_ (kas- _ti-geyt): to criticize or reprimand severely_

 

    The very first thing he tells the police is not ‘he attacked me’ or ‘it was self-defense’ or something sensible, but “I’m an airbender!”

 

    Needless to say, not his brightest moment, but he was in shock. Delighted shock, but still shock.

 

    It doesn’t look good, considering they arrive to find a gleeful, nearly vibrating Izuku sitting next to a man that had been beaten unconscious. Understandably, the first thing they do is haul Izuku and the knocked out waterbender to the police station for questioning. They debate among each other whether to let Izuku shower—the sewage smell is revolting—but ultimately opt to grill him for details first. Izuku goes along with all of this, brain running on overdrive.

 

    Izuku had airbended. _No-Bend Deku_ had _airbended._ It was a literal dream come true, but Izuku finds himself baffled by the situation. It makes absolutely _no sense._ _No one_ has ever bended for the first time past eight, much less _fourteen-years-old._ The part of his brain not high on delight tries to find a logical explanation for this, shuffling through his vast archive of bending knowledge. He finds nothing at all.

 

    Combined with his odd trance-like state when fighting, it’s all suspicious.

 

    “You said he tried to drown you?” a balding officer asks him. Izuku has to take a moment to blink away his thoughts.

 

    “Uh, not exactly. He was trying to fill my body with water so he could use me as a puppet.” Which is a frightening thought. Izuku has heard of cases like this before, fresh dead bodies filled to the brim with water being bended to do another’s bidding. It’s horrifying, frankly, and though Izuku likes devouring every scrap of info on bending he can find, those cases he always skimmed. Though it does make him wonder… Blood is already a liquid within the body that could mimic body movements much better, and likely could be used without killing the victim, unlike this cruder method. Izuku has never even heard of any case of bloodbending, though, so there must be something about blood that makes it harder to control. Liquids like drinks and contaminated water can be bended, though, so maybe it has to do with blood being part of a living organism…

 

    “Cut that out, kid.”

 

    Izuku blinks, focusing back on the world around him. The three officers in the room look somewhat horrified, and Izuku flushes red. He must’ve been thinking aloud again, how embarrassing.

 

    “We’re here to ask questions about what happened, not bending theory,” the calmest officer says, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

 

    “Sorry,” Izuku says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”

 

    “Fuckin’ creepy,” a second officer mutters.

 

    The calm officer ignores her. “Please pay attention. Now, did your attacker mention why he was attacking you? Why did he want to control you? Was he after you specifically?”

 

    “Not really,” Izuku answers. “He just said he needed a puppet, nothing else. He seemed to be in a rush, though. Kinda frantic.”

 

    The line of questioning continues, Izuku sitting in a plastic chair they pulled in for him so he wouldn’t drip sewage water on their nicer chairs. They ask more about the attack, then his shock at bending (they don’t believe he hasn’t bended before), then his life. After this, they call his mother. She rushes into the station distraught and worried beyond reason. That quickly changes when Izuku beams at her and tells her he airbended, _really._ The officers are thoroughly disapproving of how excited they both are.

 

    “I can’t believe it! After all these years…” his mother says, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Izuku!”

 

    His mother doesn’t seem to even notice how horrible Izuku smells when she hugs him tightly. Izuku hugs back, nearly in tears himself.

 

    “Ma’am—”

 

    “I’m so happy. You can be a hero, now, Izuku! We need to celebrate!”

 

    “Ma’am, please—”

 

    “I know, let’s go see the next pro-bending match! Oh, I can’t believe you’ll get to use all those moves you’ve been learning from them.”

 

    “MA’AM!” an officer shouts. His mother startles, wide-eyed. She then remembers the situation.

 

    “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m just so excited Izuku can airbend!” she says, pulling out of their hug.

 

    The police officer is unamused. “That’s nice, but this is serious. Your son was attacked earlier by—”

 

    “Attacked? Oh no.” His mother grabs Izuku’s shoulders. “Are you okay? That’s how you—oh, I should have known. You’re in a police station, I didn’t even—”

 

    The officer’s eye twitches, but he continues on loudly over Izuku’s mother. “—a waterbender seeking to control him.”

 

    “Control?” Inko near-shrieks, pulling Izuku close again. He sends his mother his most reassuring smile.

 

    He ignores her. “Your son is physically unharmed. That is not the problem, though. The problem is that he used his bending against another person, which is illegal if one doesn’t have a license.”

 

    Inko frowned. “But Izuku was attacked, it was self-defense.”

 

    The officer nods. “Yes, that is why we won’t be pressing charges this time. But in the future, please refrain from attacking criminals. If you are assaulted, you should run away and get help.”

 

    Izuku couldn’t exactly do that when trapped in water drowning, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

     _(Run away? We do not run away.)_

 

_(Not when lives are on the line.)_

 

_(Not when we can help them.)_

 

_(Not when we can save them.)_

 

    “That’s all, you two are free to go. Stay out of trouble, young man.”

 

   _(Not happening.)_

 

* * *

 

    Izuku has always loved watching pro-bending matches, even when he was a little kid and had to be sneaky about watching them—his mother found them too violent. As long as he’s been able to write, Izuku has taken notes on every member of every pro-bending team religiously. He recorded the strengths and weaknesses, wins and losses of every team, along with his own observations on the sport. Strategies each element bender could use in this or that situation, how this attack and this defense would collide…

 

    Even when it was just little Izuku jumping up and down in front of the TV, he always became so _excited_ whenever a new match came on. He loves mentally measuring each team and estimating how each match will play out, and he’s only gotten better with time. Now, one of hundreds in the stands, that familiar excitement increases tenfold.

 

    This is only the third time Izuku has ever attended a pro-bending match in person, and it’s as exhilarating as it was the first time he went.

 

    All around him, people shout for their team and bounce in their enthusiasm, all their excitement feeding off each other until the very air is thick with it. Izuku buzzes in place, notebook and pen in hand and a massive grin on his face. His mother sits beside him, shying away from all the noise but supportive as ever. She gives him an unsure little smile when he turns to babble at her about the teams.

 

    “—and the Blue Hornets have a strong defense because both their earthbender, Okada, and their waterbender, Abe, are good at moving large amounts of their element to shield them and their teammates. Their main problem is their firebender, Ishikawa. She doesn’t work well with the rest of the team and usually is too unpredictable for her teammates, who can’t make a cohesive strategy with her as a wild card. It’s important that they predict her movements well enough to shield her when necessary because the Beaver Tails’s airbender Ueda has a strong air attack that can hit Ishikawa over the side if they don’t shield her.”

 

    Inko smiles indulgently at her son as he rambles on, his eyes glued to the ring below. Izuku is getting a few odd looks from the few fans not screaming their lungs out, but Izuku is too caught up in his analysis to notice.

 

    “Heelllllllooooo evveryyybodyyy! Leet’ss maake sooome nooiiiise!” A tall, blond man in the center of the ring holds fist up as the people in the stands scream their eagerness. Izuku near-squeals.

 

    “It’s Present Mic!” Izuku gasps, fanboy mode activated. “The pro-hero that utilizes airbending to amplify his voice! He’s usually so busy with hero work that he can’t make it to pro-bending matches, he must be making a special appearance!”

 

    Present Mic raises his arms. “I caaaaaan’t heeaar youuuu!”

 

    Izuku shouts along with the other fans, his mother clapping her hands over her sensitive ears.

 

    “O-Oh my. I should have brought earplugs…”

 

    “That’s more like it!” Present Mic booms. He strikes a pose in his full leather outfit, grinning. “Today is a special day, folks! Today we get to watch the best of the best duke it out on this stage! Four versus four, elements versus elements, it’ll be _flaming!_ ”

 

    More screaming.

 

    “Intrrroooduuuciinngg,” Present Mic swept a hand to the right. “The Beaver Tails!”

 

    The group of four dressed in red rose up on a platform to the stage, waving at the spirited crowd.

 

    “Aaaand theeir compeeetittooorsss, the Blue Hornets!”

 

    A few rows in front of Izuku, an impassioned man starts foaming at the mouth and collapses.

 

   “Let’s geet this paaartyyy starteeed!”

 

    And the match begins.

 

    “That isn’t good,” Izuku says almost immediately after the match starts. “It looks like the injury Okada got in their last game is still affecting his performance. His arms aren’t moving quickly enough, see, Mom? The earth disks are sluggish compared to usual, he will have to bend fewer of them to keep his speed…”

 

    The first round is more a game of tag than anything. With their shielding slower than usual, the Blue Hornets need to move around the ring more to dodge the slew of attacks the Beaver Tails throw at them. The Beaver Tails specialize in offense, and the Blue Hornets are quickly pushed back. The first round ends in the Beaver Tails’s favor.

 

    The second starts off strong for the Beaver Tails until the Blue Hornets start to get their act together.

 

    “Abe, Shibata, and Okada are great at teamwork,” Izuku tells his mother. “The problem is, Ishikawa is their best offense, but she won’t work with them. As she is she’ll only get in the way, so that means they will need to rely on Shibata for offense. Shibata has strong attacks, but the problem is his airbender counterpart Ueda specializes in strong offense, and will easily overpower any air attacks. Luckily, the Beaver Tails are letting their guard down thanks to their advantage, so the Blue Hornets have the chance to sneak attack them.”

 

    Just as Izuku says this, Abe and Shibata shoot an air/water attack, knocking the firebender of the Beaver Tails out of the ring in one go. The crowd cheers. Time runs out, and the underdogs win round two.

 

    “This is pretty exciting,” Inko says, her hands still clapped over her ears. “I can see why you like this so much, Izuku.”

 

    “Isn’t it awesome? Though…” Izuku frowns. “It looks like their win angered Ishikawa. She won’t take well to that.”

 

    Sure enough, Ishikawa can be seen yelling at her teammates below, fire crackling menacingly in her hands. The ref yells something at her, and she diminishes her flames but continues to glower at her teammates. They seem as incensed with her.

 

    Izuku hesitates a moment, then says, “She’s a lot like Kacchan. Even if their team wins, Ishikawa wants to win by herself. She’ll probably take this as an insult or as her teammates stealing her victory.”

 

    Round three starts with Ishikawa going all out, blasting fire at the other team from different angles. She manages to push a few of the Beaver Tails back a zone, but Izuku shakes his head.

 

    “She’s getting in the way of her teammates. None of them can attack with her all over the place like this. They might hit her if they try anything.”

 

    Ishikawa continues to fight the Beaver Tails single-handedly, her teammates seething and unable to help. The opposing airbender, Ueda, makes a wide motion with her arms.

 

    “No one can protect Ishikawa, and she’s getting slower. Ueda’s going to knock her and her team out of the ring with her most powerful attack.”

 

    A massive gale of wind expells from Ueda’s palms, and sweeps all of the Blue Hornets off the stage in one swoop.

 

    “A knoooock-ouuut!” Present Mic announces. “The Beaver Tails wiiiiin!”

 

    The crowd erupts into cheers, but Izuku stares pensively at the soaked firebender crawling out of the water below. Her team couldn’t do anything with her like that, could they? But if Izuku was on that team, he wouldn’t just give up if one person tried to ruin the fight. What could they do though?

 

    Izuku thinks about ‘Kacchan’ and wonders. Is there truly anything he can do if Katsuki set his mind on something that could make them lose? Izuku had yet to find a way to reason with Katsuki, but he would need to find a way to do that if they were both going to Yuuei together.

 

    “Wow! You called all of that, Izuku,” his mother says, amazed.

 

    Izuku nods absently, jotting down a note.

 

    _‘Find a way to get through to Kacchan.’_

 

* * *

 

     Something about the beach draws him in like a magnet. It’s illogical, as the shoreline is far from appealing with massive piles of garbage obscuring the view. All Izuku can see from the street is junk; damaged TVs, broken furniture, rusting cars, and anything else the public no longer has a use for. It’s actually rather off-putting to look at, and yet Izuku feels the intense urge to get closer.

 

    He manages to resist at first. It’s likely the smell the garbage accumulates that keeps him away, as it reminds him of the lingering stench of sewer water. Izuku averts his eyes and marches on, but the pull proves to be too much after a few days.

 

    So, early Saturday morning Izuku goes to the beach.

 

    The first thing he does, of course, is step on a jagged piece of glass.

 

    “Owowowowowowow!” Izuku falls to the sandy ground, clutching his right foot and wishing he hadn’t chosen to wear thin sandals to the beach instead his normal sneakers. His ‘thinking ahead’ cost him this time.

 

    After taking a moment to cry his pain, Izuku lifts his foot gingerly and looks at it.

 

    The shard of glass had torn right through his sandal and into his skin, though it’s a relatively small shard compared to the large, sharper ones further down the beach. This could’ve been much worse, so there’s that. At least he’s not bleeding too much.

 

    Izuku is not so easily deterred now that he’s made his decision to check out the beach. Reminding himself to clean and dress the wound when he got home, Izuku takes off his light blue t-shirt (should’ve worn a darker color) and wraps it around his bleeding foot.

 

    It embarrasses him a bit to stand out in the open shirtless, despite the fact that there is no one nearby that he can see. He’s just so… not buff. Izuku pouts at his stick-thin arms and untoned chest. It doesn’t matter how much he trains his bending if his body is so weak; he’ll be beaten in no time like this. Physical health and ability empower bending, as well as combat skills. If Izuku truly wants to be a pro-hero, he’ll have to train his body along with his bending.

 

    Shaking these thoughts away, Izuku very carefully makes his way farther down the beach, watching the sand for any glass or sharp rocks. It gets worse the farther he goes, to a point Izuku will have to get better shoes if he hopes to get through unscathed.

 

    Unless…

 

    Izuku eyes the glass around him, then the sand, then the stacks of garbage, then his hand. If he’s careful and starts slowly, maybe he can…

 

    Slowly, Izuku makes a swiping motion to the side with his hand, aiming for a small breeze. Izuku has no control over his airbending right now, though, so instead he gets a strong gust of wind. A good deal of the glass skids to the trash heap, but a good deal of sand also goes flying into the air at the force behind the swipe.

 

    The fourteen-year-old sputters and coughs as sand is launched in his face. He coughs and spits in an effort to remove the sand that went straight into his mouth, scrubbing at the sand that went into his eyes. Yes, Izuku definitely needs to work on his control. Anyone with a good grasp of airbending could gently move objects without upsetting their surroundings. Training it is, then.

 

    The way cleared, Izuku moves forward again, still on the lookout for skin-piercers. Some of the heavier shards of glass stayed put, only the sand around them disrupted, so Izuku still has to watch his steps. He passes between two massive stacks of furniture, moving farther inward.

 

  _(Farther, farther. You need to see it.)_

 

    And see it Izuku does when he makes his way through the forest of garbage. Past all the trash, there is beauty. Izuku stares, awed, at the sight before him.

 

    The vast ocean shimmers in the early morning light, glinting rich blues and greens. The soft sand glitters and shifts with the salty ocean breeze. On each side, the beach stretches on into the far horizon, as does the sea, endless and eternal. Not a soul dots the sand or water, all past the garbage looking untouched by humanity.

 

    Izuku only realizes minutes later that he’s crying.

 

    Besides the majestic scene, there is something… familiar about the view, in a heart-wrenching, heart-in-the-throat sort of way. This is a special place, Izuku knows. So many memories were made on this stretch of land, and the nostalgia is _eating him alive._

 

    Then Izuku turns back and sees the _scourge_ blighting the landscape, and the tears dry up. Izuku is _angry._ How _dare_ these careless people disrespect and destroy and contaminate _his_ beach? It is only their laziness and disregard for nature that lead to this—this _disgusting_ display. Izuku has to fix this, somehow. He can’t allow this _defilement_ to continue.

 

    Then Izuku looks at the towering piles of waste that seem to extend forever, and he hesitates.

 

    _‘No way, that’s not a good idea.’_

 

     _(Do it.)_

 

    And that is how Izuku ends up spending ten months cleaning up a beach.


	3. Memento

_Memento (m uh _ \- men \- _toh): an object kept as a reminder of a person, past event, etc_

 

    Like most things in his life, airbending does not come easily to Izuku. The first week after discovering his airbending is nuanced by how much damage Izuku can cause to the house. He doesn’t mean to smash cookware or shred the couch, but that’s simply what happens whenever the fourteen-year-old attempts to use his newly-acquired airbending. He can’t help the robust gusts of air that knock dinner off the table or china from the cabinets. He simply has no control over it.

 

    Thankfully, Izuku discovers that landfill of a beach _(how dare they)_ not too long after, so only so much of the house gets wrecked. His mother—still ecstatic about Izuku’s sudden change of fortune—doesn’t make a fuss over the destruction Izuku accidentally unleashes on their home. She tuts a bit, but she’s always smiling, not telling him to tone it down or anything. Izuku couldn’t ask for a better mother. His mom is visibly relieved, however, when Izuku reveals his new training area/community service project.

 

    The beach works perfectly for Izuku’s training. He needs to move all the discarded trash anyway, and his airbending helps immensely in moving objects too heavy for Izuku to move otherwise. He spends the full of every Saturday and Sunday on the oddly familiar sand, clearing away each bit of garbage piece by piece and wind by wind. In the beginning, he uses up most of his energy within an hour, leaving him incapable of making more than a small breeze. He then spends the whole rest of the day trying to push and pull the junk with his body. It back-breaking work that leaves Izuku gasping for air and feeling like he got hit by a truck, but every time he considers quitting there’s a nudge in the back of his mind.

 

     _(Keep going.)_

 

_(One foot in front of the other, kiddo.)_

 

_(One more car. You can do it.)_

 

_(You are doing well, my boy.)_

 

    And Izuku doesn’t give up.

 

    As the days pass Izuku’s time airbending increases steadily, and eventually, Izuku has to create a specific slot of time to use his body instead. Training the body is as important as training bending, after all. Within a month, Izuku can airbend near-constantly for four hours before the strain starts to get to him.

 

    Izuku keeps going.

 

    The main problem with his newfound airbending, Izuku finds, is control. He always creates either a soft breeze or a massive gust of wind that nearly blows him off his feet at the force of it; there is no in-between. It was all or nothing, and Izuku knows well from watching pro-heroes and pro-benders that that is not a good thing. Izuku needs to be able to utilize every tier of airbending, not just the weakest and the strongest settings. Or else everywhere he goes will end up like his battered house. And Yuuei would never accept him if he couldn’t go a day without wrecking their equipment.

 

    The frustrating part about this is that no one else seems to have this issue. Everyone his age, such as Katsuki, has spent their entire lives bending and have already learned how to control their bending output. Using the desired amount of force is like breathing to them, while Izuku finds himself with as much control over it as he does his heartbeat. It’s like what would be a voluntary muscle is involuntary for him, and it gets old quickly.

 

    To his shame, Izuku finds himself searching online for bending practices meant for toddlers and young children. A problem like his is only found in the absolute first stages of bending, but it exists, so there must be some way of seizing control. Somehow.

 

    Izuku works diligently and a bit fanatically on his training, spending every waking hour either practicing bending or re-reading his many notes on airbending style. It’s reasonable, considering he only has ten months to catch up to fourteen years worth of experience if he wants to get into Yuuei.

 

    But he can. He can get into Yuuei and no one, not even Katsuki, can stop him.

 

    So Izuku reviews his notes between answering his teachers’ questions, creates a whirling ball of air under his desk where no one can see, and goes through the airbending katas he’s sketched his entire life between clearing the beach and prepares.

 

    _(A diligent student. He will do well.)_

 

_(Kid has to make sure he doesn’t burn himself out first. He’s going to hurt himself at this rate.)_

 

_(We will stop him if it goes too far. For now, let him train. He has a very long way to go.)_

 

    And indeed Izuku does.

 

* * *

 

     Eight months later, Izuku sits dazed on the sand, staring out at the vivid sunset. It paints the sea in orange and red, and the sight is so familiar to Izuku it hurts. His arms and legs hurt even more, though. He can barely move them at all from where his legs are sprawled and where his arms are hanging limply at his sides. He may have gone a bit too far today with pushing that semi-trailer…

 

   _(Nice work, kiddo.)_

 

_(At least it was missing the back half. Crazy kid.)_

 

    Something glints in the dusk light. A brief shine of metal stuck in the sand. It lies within the massive dent where the semi-trailer used to be.

 

    Izuku tries to ignore it and go back to watching the sunset. The sky and ocean are so beautiful here, but somehow Izuku can’t keep his eyes from lingering on that patch of sand. There is something there. Something important.

 

    It takes another eight minutes, but eventually, Izuku can’t resist the pull of the mysterious object any more than he could the pull of the beach. He clambers up, muscles screaming at him. Izuku groans, almost tilting sideways and back onto the sand. Somehow, though, he manages to stay upright. He walks forward, his shins protesting as he stumbles sluggishly on the shifting sands.

 

    He collapses when he gets there, straight onto his belly. He lies there, cheek in the sand, staring at his find.

 

    It really isn’t much. A twisted hunk of metal, rusted red with age with a small part of it still silvery despite the test of time. It’s crudely bent into a curling shape, with two ovals and a circle.

 

    It kind of looks like a bunny.

 

    Izuku finds himself laughing into the sand, hysterical. It looks like a bunny! All this build up in his soul, and it’s a rusted bunny!

 

    Inside his head, another elated laughter joins his.

 

    _(I wondered what happened to that old thing!)_

 

    Izuku also realizes that that salty smell isn’t just the ocean, but the tears streaming down his face, wetting the sand. Why on earth is he crying?

 

    Izuku spends a good half-an-hour laughing and crying in the sand, on his stomach and staring at an old hunk of metal. He has no clue why, but that single rusted bit of metal is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen in his life.

 

  _(Wait ‘til old Hiko sees this! His face will be priceless.)_

 

    After a long time spent regaining his lost composure and even more time forcing his aching muscles to function, Izuku manages to leave the beach, metal souvenir in hand. He couldn’t leave the old thing to rust further in the sands of his beloved beach, despite having no clue why it’s so important to him.

 

    He arrives home to a worried mother, unable to explain just why he was at the beach an hour later than normal. Showing her his find doesn’t mitigate her confusion. Nor does it Izuku’s. In the end, he agrees to warn her next time he wants to stay late at the beach and goes to bed.

 

    The next day, Izuku goes to the store and buys a plain leather necklace. He loops it through one of the metal hoops and then ties it around his neck.

 

    He doesn’t take it off again.

 

* * *

 

     Izuku’s attempts to ‘get through to Kacchan’ don’t go very well. In hindsight, Izuku should have guessed this would happen.

 

    The first few times Izuku fumbles as he tries to initiate a civil conversation, Katsuki straight-up laughs in his face and tells him to go die in a hole. When Izuku shows persistence, he nearly gets his eyebrows burned off. Katsuki does not want anything to do with Izuku outside of the daily bullying, apparently. It’s hurtful, but slowly becomes sort of infuriating. Why can’t Katsuki just listen to him for once in his life?

 

    Things change the day Izuku decides to wear his new necklace to school.

 

    “Kacchan,” Izuku says once lunch starts, rushing up to his childhood friend’s desk before he can stalk out. The blond sneers at him, his followers already leaving the classroom along with the rest of their peers.

 

    Izuku decides to try something new this time. At first, Izuku attempted to start some small talk or invite Katsuki to do something, but every time it blew up in his face quite literally. So, this time, he’s going to appeal to Katsuki’s love of bending. He’s nervous, as he isn’t sure if revealing his bending is going to offend Katsuki somehow, but it’s a risk he’ll have to take. They’ll both be in the Yuuei heroics course together if everything goes right, after all, and he’d rather not Katsuki find out so late. He’ll take it as Izuku keeping a secret when Izuku really wants to keep his body in one piece.

 

    Izuku doesn’t like conflict in general, and his messy relationship with Katsuki in particular. Even after all these years, after all of Katsuki’s harsh blows and harsher words, Izuku still wants to be friends with the firebender. Katsuki is one of the most amazing people Izuku knows, and he would love it if they could have a conversation without Katsuki blasting flames at him.

 

    Opening his mouth to reveal his secret, Izuku is ready for anything Katsuki will throw at him.

 

    Katsuki cuts him Izuku off before he can even say anything. “What the fuck is around your neck, Deku?”

 

    Or not. Izuku blinks.

 

    The blond looks disgusted, as if personally offended by the DIY necklace. Izuku is thrown off; Katsuki has never had a problem with Izuku’s choice of accessory or clothing before. This is new territory.

 

    “Um.”

 

    Katsuki stands up slowly, menacingly, and Izuku forces himself not to take a few hundred steps back.

 

    For once, Katsuki doesn’t even look angry or smug when appraising Izuku. Just really confused and irritated by it. “Not even gonna answer, No-Bend Deku? What, is that the only shitty jewelry you can afford? That’s fucking pathetic, even for you.”

 

    “No!” Izuku says, waving his hands. “Um. What?”

 

    Katsuki looms closer, and Izuku gulps. He forgot what he was going to say. He had a plan and everything, didn’t he? _Didn’t he?_

 

    “You just fucking found this in a trash heap, didn’t you?”

 

    Izuku flushes red. He inches back, but Katsuki follows.

 

    Then Katsuki’s hand reaches to grab the metal, and all Izuku can think is _‘he’s going to destroy it.’_ Izuku can see it; the metal heating up until it’s red with heat rather than rust, then melting to something indistinguishable in Katsuki’s flames. The metal is old and weathered, and it won’t survive Katsuki.

 

    _‘I won’t let him.’_

 

    He doesn’t even think. Izuku’s own hand shoots out to capture Katsuki’s before he can even touch it. Izuku misses the shock on the blond’s face.

 

    “Don’t,” Izuku says firmly, not letting go of Katsuki’s hand. For a brief moment, there is no fear or worry as Izuku stares straight into Katsuki’s red eyes. Only resolve.

 

    Then Izuku realizes just what exactly he’s done and drops Katsuki’s hand like the hot coal it is. “S-Sorry! I just, uh, didn’t want you to—”

 

    “What the _fuck,_ Deku?” And Izuku is pushed hard, colliding painfully with the wall behind him (thankfully not the window, it may have broken with Katsuki’s amount of force). Izuku winces, and Katsuki stalks forward, flames bursting to life in his hands. Izuku freezes. “You get some shitty fucking jewelry, and you think you’re better than me?”

 

    “N-No, Kacchan!” Izuku says, scrambling to his feet and deeply regretting his actions. He was trying to make peace with Katsuki, not rile him up! “I don’t think I’m better than you, I just—”

 

    Izuku squeaks, barely avoiding a fireball that scorches the wall behind him.

 

    “Listen here, _No-Bend Deku,”_ Kastuki says, gritting his teeth like a feral animal. “I’m the best bender in this shitty fucking school, and like hell some _non-bender scum_ like you is going to surpass me!”

 

    “Kacchan, listen, I didn’t—”

 

    “Listen to this, Deku!”

 

    Four things happen in quick succession. First, a teacher enters the room and yells at Katsuki to stop firebending. Second, Katsuki snarls and ignores the teacher, jabbing at Izuku with a blast of fire too fast for him to dodge. Third, Izuku raises his hands in front of him, flinching.

 

    Fourth, air blasts from Izuku’s outstretched palms, hitting Katsuki square in the chest and launching him across the room.

 

    The desks and chairs in his way are blasted away with Katsuki, thankfully unbroken but the formation completely ruined. Papers fly off the walls and desks, scattering across the room. Katsuki hits the adjacent wall with enough force to stun him for a few seconds. A small part of the plaster cracks.

 

    There’s a beat of incredulous silence.

 

    “...Oh no,” Izuku says, curling in on himself. His green eyes are wide with horror. What has he done? _What has he done?_

 

    The teacher gapes from the classroom threshold. She shakes her head, gaze alternating between the horrified Izuku, stunned Katsuki, and wrecked room. “Midoriya, you just… No, that isn’t important. Bakugou, Midoriya, to the principal’s office immediately!”

 

    Katsuki shakes with rage once he regains his senses, murder in his eyes. “I’m going to _fucking kill you!”_

 

    Izuku yelps, still backed up against a wall, as Katsuki raises fiery hands. He sends more raging fire at Izuku, burning through the desks and chairs in its way. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, raising his arms to guard his face. Airbending will only make this worse, won’t it? If Izuku put up a serious fight, then Katsuki might… The flames don’t hit him, however.

 

    A wall of water shields Izuku, and there’s a moment when both of them wonder how the hell Izuku waterbended before the teacher rushes forward, hand outstretched.

 

    “Stop this instant, Bakugou! You are not permitted to attack other students like this, let alone with your fire!” she says, caught off-guard but used to dealing with raging bender students like this. This is hardly the first time she’s had to break up a fight like this, though this is the first time Izuku has ever fought back, much less with airbending.

 

    Behind the teacher, Izuku can see that the pipes under the water fountain had burst, supplying their teacher the water. That’s even _more_ collateral damage that will be on his head! Oh no.

 

    “Fuck off, old hag!” Katsuki snarls, trembling in his fury. “No-Bend…”

 

    Katsuki trails off, staring furiously at Izuku, who flinches under his red gaze. This certainly isn’t what Izuku was intending when he started this. This is _much_ worse than Katsuki learning at Yuuei. So much worse that Izuku may have ruined his chances of ever befriending Katsuki.

 

    “Both of you to the principal’s office!” the teacher repeats. “Or I will _force_ you.”

 

    Her large orb of water rises threateningly, and Katsuki shoots one last heated glare at Izuku before storming out of the room. He punches the door with a fire-coated fist for good measure, leaving singe marks on the wood.

 

    Izuku deflates in relief.

 

    “You as well, Midoriya,” the teacher says, looking more bewildered than anything now that Katsuki is gone. “I don’t know how on earth you can bend, but you will have to report to the principal about this. Being an airbender… changes things.”

 

    That’s an understatement.

 

* * *

 

     Luckily, since this is a first-time offense on Izuku’s part and an act of self-defense, Izuku is only given a few days of detention for nearly trashing the classroom. Katsuki, on the other hand, has used firebending against other students too many times and is instead suspended for three days. Izuku cowers under Katsuki’s ferocious glare, but luckily the principal is there so Katsuki can’t attack Izuku again.

 

    Both their mothers are called to the school, and both react much differently to the situation. Mitsuki, Katsuki’s mother, brushes the incident off as a petty squabble, giving her son a cuff over the head before sweeping it under the rug. Inko, ever the mama bear, demands that Katsuki never attack Izuku again while holding her own son close. Izuku winces, limp in his mother’s hold.

 

    Inko means all the best, but a such a statement like that will only encourage Katsuki to hunt down ‘the little shit that hides behind his mom.’

 

    In addition to their respective punishments, both are given the task of cleaning up the room they wrecked. Together.

 

    If there weren’t two teachers watching them, Izuku is sure he would be burnt to a crisp.

 

   _(He needs to stand up for himself. He can’t keep cowering every time he’s threatened.)_

 

_(This is a problem between him and the child. Years of abuse have conditioned him to react as he has.)_

 

_(Give him time. He’s still only a kid.)_

 

 _(He doesn’t_ have _time. They are going to make their next move soon. It’s been fifteen years now, and the world is the most unstable it’s been in a long while. We need to bring the balance back.)_

 

    ( _And_ that man _will hunt him once he learns we live. We don’t have time to baby the kid.)_

 

_(He doesn’t need babying, but there is only so much one so young can take. He will do the world no good if we break him.)_

 

_(When the time is right, we shall act. Until then, let him grow and learn as any child should.)_

 

 _(A child cannot take down_ that man.)

 

_(No. Not yet. But give him time.)_

 

_(After all, he has us to guide him.)_

 

* * *

 

    Izuku turns restlessly in his sleep that night, haunted by faces and voices he cannot recall. Something is wrong, and it bothers Izuku. He has to do something. What? He needs to save them. Who are they? He doesn’t know. He’s scared.

 

    In sleep, one hand grasps the memento around his neck. He sleeps better after that.


	4. Aeronautics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku tries to fly and bullies will be bullies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! Life can be mean sometimes. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you lovely people who left reviews! I love hearing all of your ideas and thoughts : )
> 
> Please enjoy!

_Aeronautics (air- uh_-naw- _tiks): T he science or art of flight_

 

 

    Trying to fly reminds Izuku a lot of when he burnt himself on the stove as a child. In both cases, he wanted something so badly he went too far and hurt himself.

 

    Before that fateful day nine months ago, Izuku could not bend. The majority of his life saw him trying to control an element anyways. That desperate hope of his never quite extinguished despite every harsh word. Even the injuries did little to deter him. And injure himself he did.

 

    There were a smattering of firebenders on his dad's side of the family, which meant there was a chance he had a gift for fire rather than air. He repeated this to himself hopefully when he stared at the stove's blue flames and moved his hand around in an attempt to garner any reaction. He spent much of the time away from his mother's eyes standing on a stool before the stove, trying to will the flames into moving. He would sneak down to the kitchen every night to try again, his footsteps somehow lighter and quieter than they ever were during the day. His mother never caught him, and Izuku was a determined child. Eventually, though, the ever-building frustration met its peak, and at seven years old Izuku stuck his hand into an open flame. It was impulsive, and clearly unhelpful, yet somehow Izuku's keen mind was muddled by how badly he wanted this to work. The young boy had howled in pain, falling off his stool and sending his mother running from her bedroom. He’d gotten an earful after his mother had fussed enough over him.

 

    Sadly, recent experiences have shown that he’s learned nothing.

 

    “Guuhhh,” Izuku groans, laying spread-eagle on newly cleaned sand. He stares at the bright sunlit blue sky with a few scattered clouds. It’s a beautiful day today but Izuku doesn’t really care when he feels like he ran full speed into a concrete wall. Everything hurts. Especially his back, he feels like something _just_ failed to stab him. It hurts a lot. Izuku is kind of concerned about that.

 

    Oh, it probably hurts because of the wooden spikes under him.

 

    The green-haired teen tries hard not to cry when he realizes that that pain in his back is from his ruined handmade airbender staff. He’d spent the whole of the last two months working on that! Stupid Izuku, destroying it on his first test run…

 

    He managed to get up eventually, wincing and holding back tears the whole way. Then he looks under him at the mess of wood and shower curtain that was his staff. A few traitorous tears slipped out.

 

    Airbender staffs are more complicated than they look, requiring precise measurements and meticulous work that drives most airbenders away. They are also fragile, built sparingly so they’re light enough to allow flight. It took much research and weeks of near-constant work to create even a prototype, and all of that was for nothing now that he so quickly wrecked his staff. He’d have to carve and search for parts and sew and do all of that work all over again.

 

    Izuku groans again and flops back onto an empty patch of sand.

 

    He wanted to have a working staff in time for the exams, and now there’s only less than a month left finish it.

 

 _‘Maybe I could ask Mom about buying one,’_ Izuku thinks, then immediately shuts down that idea. Airbender staffs are _insanely_ expensive and they don’t have the spare money for that. No, Izuku has to create one if he wants to use an airbender staff. And he wants to. A lot.

 

    Not only would being able to fly be endlessly useful in battle, but it also sounds _fun._ Flying is something Izuku could only dream of as a child, an exciting fantasy and nothing more. But now, there’s a chance he can. He _can._ So Izuku picks himself up and returns to his searching.

 

    Only a few stacks of miscellaneous junk remain on the beach, now a small eyesore among a beautiful sandy landscape. Bright, bubbly happiness and pride swell in his chest as he looks upon the results of nine months of work. He’s almost finished, then the beach will be as it should have always been.

 

    Like his first time, Izuku rummages through the last heap, looking for any wood that might work for an airbender staff. A good deal of furniture is still here, but the majority of it is either too rotted by the weather or too heavy for flight. Izuku is careful as he searches, having been injured by sharp metal and jagged glass and splintered wood too many times. With a bit of focus, Izuku whirls air around his hands, adding a layer of protection he couldn’t use but a few months ago.

 

    His control over air is still edgy at times, especially when he’s emotional, but Izuku is leaps and bounds better than he was in the beginning. He has solid control over the movements of his airbending and technique, though sometimes he still puts a bit too much power into it. But it feels _natural_ now, like he’s using his limbs rather than a weapon. It’s part of Izuku now.

 

    Izuku finds a long table amongst the trash, stuck halfway in the sand and buried under heaps of discarded plastic and metal. He digs it out with solely his arms, gratified when he can easily lift it. He would hardly be able to budge this thing in the beginning, let alone lift it like it’s nothing.

 

    It has plenty of length, but it far too wide for Izuku to whittle it down unless he wants to spend another month on that. Izuku takes a deep, steady breath, and raises his right arm straight up.

 

    With a chop, his air slices off a perfect strip of the table. Izuku grins.

 

    It’s going to suck making a staff all over again, but hell if he doesn’t feel giddy using his hard-earned power.

 

    More searching leads to the discovery of rusted wire that could be of use and another discarded shower curtain. It’s decorated with orange and pink fish on a bright blue background, but hey, Izuku will take what he can get. At least it seems intact.

 

    Izuku gets odd looks that evening when he walks home with a tall plank of wood wrapped in a colorful shower curtain. He tries not to care about them but still walks faster, blushing furiously.

 

    Instead of entering through the front door, Izuku jumps up to his windowsill with a burst of air under his feet. He opens his purposefully unlocked window and lands silently inside. The moment he’s inside, Izuku stuffs his newly found supplies in the closet then jumps back out his window. He floats back onto the pavement, then walks in through the front door.

 

    Izuku doesn’t want to worry his mother, especially after today’s disaster of a first flight. If she knew Izuku has been trying to create his own air glider, she’d drive herself mad with worry, which is something Izuku _never_ wants. So, for now, Izuku is going to keep his latest project a secret.

 

    “I’m home!” Izuku calls, taking off his shoes.

 

    “Welcome back, sweetheart! How was your day?”

 

    Izuku laughs self-deprecatingly. “Not all that productive.”

 

    After a delicious dinner and a warm hug from his mother, Izuku quietly sets to work creating his airbender staff. Again.

 

* * *

 

    Like every day since Izuku discovered his gift for air, he wakes up at the crack of dawn to go on a run. It starts with drowsy first steps, half-hearted brushing of teeth, then dressing in his exercise clothes. Then, he runs.

 

    At first, jogging around the neighborhood had been absolute torture. Izuku hadn’t been in shape when he began, despite the time he’d spent fruitlessly practicing bender katas. An hour of cardio had left him red-faced, drenched in sweat, laying on the ground getting pitying looks from passerby. Now, after months of training and conditioning, Izuku no longer struggles with running for an hour. Rather, he struggles to break a sweat within an hour. He needed to keep pushing himself to get better, so he tried to do more.

 

    He ran around the city, running full speed and barely dodging civilians. Once he learned how to decrease air resistance with his airbending, he moved too fast to risk running in moderately populated areas. His speed had gotten to the point that running into people may seriously injure them, so Izuku stuck to alleys and lesser used roads after that. He even started vaulting over fences and off walls until a police officer chewed him out for his acrobatics. He stopped after that.

 

    It's exhilarating, being able to move at such speeds on his own. Once he gets over the initial fear (oh god he could go  _splat_ against that tree) he finds himself laughing joyously.

 

    That is how he stumbles across his first real try at heroics: high on adrenaline and giggling.

 

    Izuku skids to a stop when he sees a group of people blocking his way, a big grin still on his face. He immediately makes to maneuver around them, but stops when he processes the scene before him.

 

    Splayed on the ground with a crooked nose leaking blood, a boy with a shock of indigo hair turns his head and meets Izuku's eyes. He's exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and movements slow. He looks too tired to even attempt to protect himself. Izuku's throat closes up.

 

    Looming over the boy, two other boys of the same age freeze. One holds a chunk of cement in the air, ready to bash the fallen boy's face in. The other has the remnants of a sneer on his face upon facing Izuku, hastily covered by stony indifference. Both stop, clearly caught red-handed yet belligerent.

 

    “Keep running, dude,” the earthbender says. “We're just teaching smarty mouth here a lesson.”

 

    “Move along.” The sneering boy waves a hand in dismissal.

 

    Izuku looks at them, then the boy on the ground. He's not pleading for help with his eyes or sagging with relief. The boy just narrows purple eyes. He doesn't want help. Why? Does he not think he deserves it? Or is it something else?

 

    _(Something familiar.)_

 

    “W-Why are you hurting him?” Izuku asks unevenly, glancing anxiously between the aggressors and victim. Is there anything he can do? He has no clue if there are any police in the area and they aren't near any public hotspots Izuku can lead them to. He has to be able to reason with them, right? Or else...

 

    The sneering boy tenses. “None of your business, tiny.”

 

    The chunk of cement hovers threateningly, but the earthbender's countenance remains unruffled. “Silver tongue here thinks he has a right to badmouth his betters.”

 

    “Non-bender creep,” the other mutters. “Should know better than to mock people stronger than him.”

 

    “We're just showing him his place."

 

     Something cold settles in Izuku's gut.

 

     "What did you just say?" Izuku doesn't recognize his own voice, but he doesn't care about that right now.

 

     The two bullies are knocked off-balance by Izuku's sudden change in demeanor but regain themselves quickly.

 

     "He can't bend," one says slowly, as if Izuku is slow. "He's useless and yet he still talks shit about people better than him. It's pathetic."

 

    Izuku goes very, very still.

 

     _“You’re pathetic! Don’t forget who you are, No-Bend Deku! You’re never gonna be able to bend. Trying anyway is just pitiful!”_

 

    Years of taunts reverberate in Izuku's head, intensifying his anger word by word.

 

    Understand, Izuku does not like confrontations or fights. He knows that sometimes fighting is unavoidable, especially as a hero, but he actively tries to avoid it when he can. Empathy makes it hard to hurt others, and sensitivity makes each blow against him sting all the more. He doesn't like fighting.

 

     "He deserves this."

 

    But something in Izuku _snaps._

 

    “Leave,” Izuku commands, voice low, lower than it has ever been.

 

    The boys blink at him, momentarily stunned into silence. Then the sneering teen puffs up.

 

    “Who do you think you are, ordering us around? Wanna join this weakling on the ground, huh?”

 

    “Leave now,” Izuku says. The fallen boy looks as baffled as his aggressors. “Or I’ll make you.”

 

    The earthbender readies his rock, the other pulling his arm back in a punch. Izuku doesn’t hesitate.

 

     _(Not too much power. Don’t hurt them.)_

 

_(Scare them.)_

    

    Izuku twists and kicks out his left foot, a gale of wind following. Eyes widen, and the two boys are flung across the alley. The small alley becomes a funnel, the indigo-haired boy the only thing saved from the blast. The boys skid and stop just before they hit a massive dumpster.

 

    The boys gape at him for a moment, perfectly unhurt, before sharing a glance. This is not what they signed up for. With a last glare at Izuku and the other teen, the two bolt.

 

    Izuku’s shoulders slump in relief, the fight leaving him. He takes a shaky breath.

 

    What was he thinking? He could have provoked those guys into attacking him or the indigo-haired boy again. Or he could have seriously hurt those two if he lost control over his airbending, which does not take a stretch of the imagination. That could have ended horribly.

 

    But it didn’t.

 

    Izuku shuffles over to the teen he maybe saved. He’s slowly getting back to his feet, wary eyes on Izuku and broken nose still bleeding profusely.

 

    “A-Are you okay?” Izuku asks hesitantly. He doesn’t get an immediate response. For a moment the boy just stares at Izuku like he just declared himself an alien.

 

    Izuku pats himself and finds a pair of woolen gloves he’d shoved inside his jacket upon his mother’s insistence that it’s too cold out. He takes one red glove and holds it out to the boy.

 

    “Here,” Izuku says. “Cover your nose with this.”

 

    A beat of silence. The boy looks like not only did he declare himself an alien, but that he turned into one. Izuku shifts uncomfortably but keeps holding out the glove.

 

    “Why?” he asks. His voice is nasal thanks to his broken nose.

 

    “You need to stop the bleeding,” Izuku explains.

 

    “No, I mean…” the boy trails off. He raises a hand to his nose, covering it. “I’m fine. No need to ruin your gloves.”

 

    “They’re red already,” Izuku points out. “And I already have another pair of gloves at home.”

 

    “I’m fine,” he repeats. He pauses a moment, considering something. His purple eyes flash. “The way you just jumped into a fight… Are you looking to become a hero?”

 

    “Um, yeah,” Izuku says, smiling tentatively. “I am. I’m going to be a hero.”

 

    It feels good to say it aloud. After years and years of scorn over his dream, it feels good to be able to just  _say it._ To not have to mutter his answer under his breath or change the subject. He can be a hero. He _can._

 

    “I didn’t need your help,” he says evenly. Izuku blinks. “I’m going to be a hero too. The best hero.”

 

     _(So it was pride.)_

 

    “Oh,” Izuku says lamely.

 

    The boy frowns at him, then begins to turn away.

 

    “I’m sorry for interfering,” Izuku says quickly, taking a step forward, as if to follow him. “I just, well…”

 

   _(We couldn’t stand by and watch someone get hurt.)_

 

_(We couldn’t stand by and watch someone die.)_

 

_(We couldn’t let the worst happen.)_

 

    “I couldn’t stand by while someone was getting hurt,” Izuku says, looking down at his sneakers. 

 

    There is another long pause, and when Izuku looks up again he meets the boy’s eyes. They’re wide with surprise, which is quickly hidden upon Izuku’s gaze meeting his. He schools his expression, exhaustion still written into the strain in his face.

 

    “Yeah, whatever,” he says, turning his back on Izuku. “I guess that’s what a hero does, huh?”

 

    Izuku is stunned for a moment, then beams at the retreating boy’s back. “Yeah. Um, my name is Midoriya Izuku.”

 

    “...Shinsou Hitoshi.” The boy looks back one more time with something almost resembling a smile peeking out from the hand covering his nose. He leaves without another word.

 

    “Um,” Izuku says to no one.

 

    Izuku makes his way home without a scratch on his person or anything to show that he had kind of saved someone and kind of fought some other people. Upon entering the bathroom and catching sight of himself in the mirror, he looks remarkably similar to the green-haired teen that had left the house an hour ago. He looks no different, but something has changed.

 

    Maybe it was kind of saving someone or maybe using his bending against bullies. Maybe it was that short conversation before Shinsou left Izuku alone in an alley. Maybe it was something else entirely.

 

    Izuku meets his own gaze in the mirror and grins.

 

* * *

 

    The day before the Yuuei entrance exam, Izuku stands atop the last stack of garbage, airbender staff in hand. It looks like only a tall, carved stick in Izuku’s hand with dark brown wood that could splinter with a bit of force. In short: it doesn’t look like much.

 

    Izuku opens the staff to its glider form. The bright fish-decorated wings pop out with a quiet snap, two large fans at Izuku’s head and two smaller ones at his ankles. The shift from staff to glider is still stiff, but Izuku revels in it. It took an unholy amount of constant work to make the many delicate parts of the staff move just right to allow the change. His work paid off, though; the change is much smoother now than the first staff he made.

 

    He holds it in the air, admiring his hard work, before looking back to the skyline. Izuku had left a seven-foot-high stack on the beach for this exact moment. So he can finally fly.

 

    With a tight grip on his glider, he readies to jump, then stops. Thinks.

 

    What went wrong last time? Yes, he didn’t bend air stably enough to allow flight. He was too focused on his excitement and not enough on technique.

 

    Several deep breaths, and Izuku readies the glider behind him, holding onto the handlebars atop the staff.

 

    The wind is strong today, strong enough that he’ll just have to give himself a push to become airborne. If he moves with the wind, bolstering its strength and letting it guide him, he shouldn’t crash into an unsightly heap on the sand again. Hopefully. He just has to…

 

    _(Be like a leaf.)_

 

    Izuku jumps. And he flies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The airbender staff Izuku uses is like the mechanist's version rather than the original staffs. They seem both more modern and easier to craft.


	5. Appraisal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Entrance Exam is a thing and Aizawa Shouta is done with the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took so freaking long. My first term of college kicked my butt. I’ll try to be better about updating. Anyway, please enjoy the chapter!

_Appraisal (uh_ -prey- _zuhl): an act of assessing something or someone, an expert estimate of the value of something._

 

 

    This is hardly the first time in Ochako's life that she's been nervous. There was that one time when she was six when she accidentally tore apart a stack of plywood in an attempt to raise it with her airbending. It was really hard to look her parents in the eyes and explain what happened. There was also that test she barely studied for a few years back; that was nerve-wracking to take! No, Ochako has felt like a jumbled mess of nerves before, if only a few times. This isn't new.

 

    That doesn't stop her from nearly vibrating as the transit nears her stop. Her fingers tap, tap, tap against the handle she holds above, nervously shifting from one foot to another. The brown-haired girl bites her lip and looks out the window; only a few more minutes.

 

    She's going to do fine. She's been training for pro-hero work for years, and there's no way she's going to mess up this great chance she's been given! No, she won't!

 

    Ochako's brown eyes burn as she clenches her free fist with fierce determination. An aura of resolve thickens the air. Beside her, a boy a few years older than her looks alarmed and shuffles away. She ignores it.

 

    This test will be hard—it _is_ for Japan's greatest bending school, after all—but Ochako knows she can do it. She has to, for her parents and for herself.

 

    The bus jolts to a stop as they reach their destination: Yuuei. Ochako steels herself and follows the crowd of potential students out.

 

    The building of Yuuei is an intimidating sight; towering, covered in glass that reflects the blue sky and scattered clouds. It looks very official, all right. Ochako takes a single deep breath before striding forward, refusing to be daunted.

 

    This is just her first step to becoming a hero!

 

    Many prospective students are filing into the building, some chattering amongst themselves, some cool and silent, others radiating nervous energy. Ochako pastes a smile on her face and joins them.

 

    A bit ahead of her, a green-haired boy tips over, seemingly tripping over nothing. Ochako automatically raises her hands, prepared to use her airbending to stop his fall. She has a lot of experience using her airbending to make things hover, but… that isn’t exactly what happens.

 

    The boy is apparently an airbender as well considering the strong gusts of air he frantically uses to right himself. He puts a bit too much power into his airbending, though, and he blasts himself backwards, landing on his behind. He sits there on the pavement, stunned, and Ochako can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in her chest.

 

    “Sorry, sorry,” Ochako says through giggles, moving to the boy’s side. “Are you all right?”

 

    The shocked look he gives her sends her into another giggling fit.

 

    “I—you—huh?”

 

    Ochako manages to calm herself, the amusement soothing any anxiety that still clung after her purge. She smiles at the confused, fallen boy and repeats her question, “Are you okay? That didn’t look all that fun. It’s no good to fall down on your first day, you know.”

 

    Ever so slowly, the green-haired teen breaks out of his stupor. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. I’m good. Everything’s good here.”

 

    Ochako extends her hand. After another bout of soul-deep shock, the boy takes it and lets her pull him up.

 

    “T-Thank you,” he says, a rosy blush adorning his freckled cheeks. He’s looking everywhere but her, clearly embarrassed.

 

    “No problem!” Ochako says, then notices something odd. There’s some sort of long stick on the ground where the boy had fallen. It looks undamaged, but she can’t quite tell what it is.

 

    Her fellow aspiring student follows her line of sight then makes a squeaking noise that startles Ochako. “Oh no! Please don’t be broken, please don’t be broken…”

 

    “Whatever it is, it looks okay,” the girl says, eyeing the stick as the boy scans every inch of it for imperfections. It’s as tall as them, made of a dark wood that looks hand-carved but done well. There are also faint lines in the stick as if it’d been splintered. It takes Ochako another moment for it to click.

 

    “Oh, is that an airbender staff?!” Ochako asks, clapping her hands just under her chin. She’s never seen a staff outside of television or the internet before, as her family can’t pay the exorbitant amount that retailers charge it for. She didn’t expect them to look so unremarkable in person, considering the price the boy must’ve paid for it.

 

    “Oh, um, yeah,” The freckled boy says, looking back and forth between the staff and Ochako’s sparkling eyes. “I just finished it yesterday.”

 

    Ochako tilts her head. “Finished it?”

 

    The blush that had yet to leave the boy’s face darkened. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly finished aesthetically, but it works! More than can be said for the last one… but I know, it doesn’t look all that great for an airbender staff, but I only had a month to make it from scratch, so I had to focus all my effort on functionality instead of looks. Though it still could use work on the speed and smoothness of shifting between the staff and glider form, also the handles don’t have very good gription—”

 

    Ochako blinks.

 

    “Oh, sorry!” The boy waves his free hand embarrassedly. “I get carried away sometimes, it’s a bad habit of mine.”

 

    “No, no!” Ochako shakes her head, beaming. “That all sounds really interesting! But...”

 

    Ochako's never heard of someone just… _making_ an airbender staff. They’re complicated and delicate, and one malfunction could mean hurtling back toward the ground. It seems impossible for anyone but a professional to make an airbender staff from scratch, much less in a month! This boy must be _uber_ smart!

 

    That is when Ochako notices something; no one else is still heading inside.

 

    “We need to go!” Ochako declares, grabbing the boy’s hand as he squeaks. “The presentation is probably gonna start any minute!”

 

    The boy lets her drag him along as she rushes them inside.

 

* * *

 

    The auditorium inside is absolutely packed with teens, and Ochako nearly _buzzes_ in anticipation from her seat. She wonders what their practical exam is going to be like. Maybe they’ll pit them all against each other? The competitive part of her perks up at the thought. Or maybe they’ll have them fight former students or upper year students? Or Yuuei could do something crazy like throwing them into a massive battle simulation.

 

    Maybe they’ll just test the strength of their attacks and defenses and things like that, but that just sounds so _boring_.

 

    “Welcooooome prospectiiiive Yuuei stuudeeeentsss!” A blond clad in leather shouts from the stage below. He looks really familiar to the brown-haired girl, so he must be a pro-hero or something… _‘Oh yeah! He’s Present Mic, the man who doubles as both a pro-hero and pro-bending announcer. How cool!’_

 

    Everyone goes quiet, giving the pro-hero their full attention. Ochako sits up straighter. “I’m here to introduce you all to today’s practical exam! Can I get a ‘Yeah’?”

 

    “Yeah!” a single voice yells, clearly pumped up.

 

    Silence.

 

    Ochako peeks at the seat to her left to find the green-haired boy she dragged in still, an excited grin frozen on his face as the realization set in. Everyone in the auditorium cranes their necks to look at him. Hundreds of pairs of eyes solely on him. He was the only person in the whole room to answer Present Mic. Ochako winces sympathetically.

 

    “Thank you, random student!” Present Mic yells, pointing dramatically at the poor boy, who slouches in his seat. “I love seeing SPIRIT! Nooooooow, let’s get to the exam! Are you guys ready to roll?!”

 

    No one answers. Her green-haired companion remains red-faced and silent.

 

    “Okay!” Present Mic continues undeterred. “Here’s how this’ll play out, listeners!”

 

    Letters appear on the jumbotron behind Present Mic: A1, E1, F1, W1, A2, E2, F2, W2.

 

    “Everybody’s gonna be separated by their bending type and desired course! You aspiring pro-benders will be in section 1! Those of you heading into heroics or the general course will be in section 2! All of you are gonna participate in a ten-minute long practical test with your bending buddies…”

 

    The jumbotron changed again to show a cityscape and a bending arena.

 

    “Section 1 is for you potential pro-benders, so it will be set up like a pro-bending match! Each of you will be put on a team with others of your respective element and pitted against our volunteering graduates! Every successful hit on an opponent grants you points, and you lose points for every hit you take! Try to get as many points as possible, pro-bender students!”

 

    More quiet. Present Mic moves on gamely.

 

    “Next up: Section 2 will be in our uninhabited cityscapes, fighting faux villains! There are three types of villains with a different amount of points; earn these points by defeating them! And don’t attack each other, that will bring down your score and generally make you a bad hero!”

 

    “Excuse me!” a student with blue-black hair and glasses calls out with a booming voice not unlike Present Mic’s. “But may I ask a question?”

 

    Present Mic barely manages a “Well, sure?” before the student goes on a tirade.

 

    “Four faux villains are listed on this handout, not three! A blatant error like this is a disgrace for a top bending academy like Yuuei! We are here to learn to bend from the best, and this is not the work of the best! And you, with the curly hair!”

 

    The green-haired boy squeaks as an accusatory finger is pointed at him.

 

    “Do not make such a racket in a professional setting! It’s distracting to all here and disrespectful! If this is some sort of game to you, please leave immediately!”

 

    “S-Sorry,” he stutters, shrinking under the bespectacled boy’s intense stare.

 

    “Alright, alright, settle down!” Present Mic says, gesturing widely. “Nice catch, examinee! Apologies for the confusion. There is a fourth faux villain but defeating it doesn’t earn you any points! It’s more of an obstacle than a foe.”

 

    “Thank you, sir,” the student bows. “I apologize for the interruption!”

 

    He then sits down, appeased. Ochako watches him for another moment, baffled.

 

    “Present Mic was trying to get us to answer, though, right? Was that a mistake? Did I miss some social cue or—” the boy next to her mumbles.

 

    “That’s all for me! I’ll leave you listeners with our school motto: Plus Ultra!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

    Ochako and the green-haired boy find their way to the practical exam grounds for the airbenders aiming to be heroes together, the boy muttering all the way.

 

    “—a way of being fair? Benders of different elements do have their own strengths and weaknesses, like firebenders being more powerful than waterbenders but less versatile or earthbenders having the best defense of the four. It’s also easier to find the best benders of each element instead of testing each contender on different skills and judging them on a more complicated system. But if they only take so many of each type of bender they may overlook those worse in their respective group but better than others—”

 

    Ochako smiles with an amused huff, nerves calmed.

 

    Their test site takes the form of a sizeable uninhabited cityscape, just as Present Mic had said. It’s impressive to behold, considering the funding that had to have gone into building a slice of a city on a high school campus. Multiple slices, actually. Yuuei must be really rich!

 

    “Woah, so big…” the boy interrupts his own rambling to say, a nervous look on his face.

 

    “Yeah, it really is,” Ochako agrees. The green-haired boy startles and peers at her with a flush of red on his face, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

 

    “AND BEGIN!” a voice booms.

 

    The two hundred or so airbenders around her blink in confusion, glancing at each other.

 

    “What’s the hold-up?! The test has started! Run!”

 

    The airbenders collectively squawk and rush through the city gates. Ochako freezes for a moment before running inside as well.

 

    _'Let's do this!'_

 

* * *

 

    Aizawa Shouta is so goddamn tired, and it has nothing to do with a lack of sleep. Or very little, at least.

 

    Watching Yuuei’s entrance exam—rather, watching Japan’s newest batch of aspiring heroes—is tiring. Out of the hundreds of kids that come every year, very few have actual potential. Watching hundreds of children play hero and mock everything a hero stands for chafes at Shouta in a way it doesn’t seem to for his fellow teachers. Another reason to the long list of why making him a teacher was a bad idea.

 

    Shouta isn’t a typical pro-hero by any means. He, for one, can’t stand all the sparkling and posturing that dominates his profession. It’s annoying. He knows what it means to save people for a living, that it should have nothing to do with fame and fortune; that’s part of why he’s an underground hero. Being surrounded by people who disrespect that is tiring. Living in such a world is simply exhausting.

 

    (The Avatar was different, but it’s not like that really matters anymore.)

 

    A jab. Shouta glares left, where Yamada Hizashi stands. The blonde grins at him and gestures to the many monitors before them. Shouta sighs and looks to the screens.

 

    The many monitors before the heroics teachers of Yuuei display the four relevant cityscapes from multiple angles. Most of the students on screen attack their targets with ferocious abandon, while a few freeze up and lose their chances; either way, none of the students glance each other’s way for anything but a back-off glare and cursory survey.

 

    Shouta looks back at Hizashi with a raised eyebrow.

 

    Hizashi rolls his eyes behind his ridiculous glasses and points to a specific monitor.

 

    The tired man sighs again and examines the screen.

 

    It’s showing a part of the earthbenders’ exam, Shouta determines immediately upon seeing the large robots dominating the screen. Each bender exam consists of distinct kinds of robots, each with three types with different amounts of points. All of the robots are designed to be strong against the element they’re paired with. Firebenders go against robots with varying levels of fire-resistance. Waterbenders have to deal with faster robots that their typically slower bending will have to strain to hit. Airbenders must take down larger and heavier robots that can’t be defeated without using either especially strong or sharp winds. And earthbenders have to fight flying robots, the ones with the highest points also flying the highest.

 

    The screen Hizashi pointed to has a few of the flying robots circling above, frantic earthbenders trying and failing to hit them. Shouta would feel bad for the kids if he wasn’t who he was. Being an earthbender himself, he knows well how hard it can be to take down flying objects. He doesn’t feel bad, though, because this exam is nothing compared to real-life combat.

 

    Some of the earthbender students are doing well despite the difficulties, sending chunks of earth flying with enough power and precision to destroy the robots. Shouta watches for a moment before realizing something. It seems like most of the hits are coming from the same few students.

 

    A small one with strange purple hair is chucking perfectly spherical balls of earth with little precision, but frequently enough that a few manage to hit. Another kid with spiky red hair is throwing himself at the robots despite the height, stone covering his limbs as he smacks the machines out of the sky with his own hands. Two girls send earth flying much less frequently than the first kid, but with better accuracy that benefits their scores. And one is… throwing jewels? They’re hitting, so Shouta shouldn’t judge.

 

    It takes Shouta a moment to find the one that caught Hizashi’s attention. It’s a black-haired kid with a broad grin on his face, shooting through the air using metal cables. Shouta raises his eyebrows. How did a kid get their hands on professional retractable metal cables?

 

    “It’s kinda like you and your scarves,” Hizashi says, the idiot. Of course _that’s_ what caught his attention.

 

    “No, it isn’t,” Shouta says. “The durability and flexibility is completely different, as well as the uses.”

 

    Though it is strange to see a kid using those, especially with the skill he does. Shouta’s seen earthbenders twice that kid’s age that couldn’t use metal cables as well as he did. He may have some potential.

 

    Hizashi grins as if hearing his thoughts. Shouta ignores him.

 

    There are small gasps across the room, and Shouta quickly scans the screens to see what caught his fellow teachers’ attention. It doesn’t take much time.

 

    The ankle of a brown-haired airbender girl is trapped beneath fallen rubble. Her face is tinted green, and a hand is over her mouth. She looks sick, likely from overusing her bending. A hundred or so meters away, the Zero Pointer makes its slow advance. Shouta watches with growing disdain as her fellow airbender students glance at her, some hesitating, but none pausing their escape to help her. The girl is about to be run over, which would not turn out pretty with the size of the Zero Pointer.

 

    Then he sees what must’ve elicited the gasps.

 

    It’s a bit hard to make out at first, but a green-haired kid is literally flying straight at the Zero Pointer, despite it being a less than worthwhile pursuit.

 

    _‘He must be trying to save the girl,’_ Shouta thinks, eyes narrowing in consideration.

 

    Moreover, he’s using an airbender staff to fly, which wouldn’t be so strange if it weren’t for the fact it was clearly homemade with its ridiculous fish-decorated wings. By all rights, he shouldn’t be able to fly with such a staff.

 

    But he does, straight at the Zero Pointer.

 

    Before he can crash into its face, the boy whips the staff around so it’s in his grip, baring his teeth and eyes wild. He swings the staff almost like a baseball bat, and the wind that is released is far too strong to have come from a child of fifteen.

 

    A massive gust of wind _throws_ the Zero Pointer away, sending the entire mass of it crashing to the ground. It’s not possible, not from a kid.

 

    But there’s so denying what he’s seeing.

 

    The kid goes plummeting back to the ground, trying to slow his descent but only managing to push himself around in the air. He doesn’t have enough control.

 

    Shouta tenses, but before the boy can splatter on the pavement, the girl stuck under the rubble raises her hands, her airbending catching the boy. The teachers collectively breathe a sigh of relief as the green-haired child is deposited onto the ground unharmed.

 

    “Wowie,” Hizashi says in English, grinning. “That kid has spirit—and packs quite the punch!”

 

    Shouta doesn’t say anything, but he agrees.

 

     _‘He saved that girl, despite the fact that it would garner him no points... at least to his knowledge,’_ Shouta thinks. He watches as the boy doesn’t slump in relief on the ground, not until he sees that the girl he saved is okay. When he does, his smile is blinding. He promptly passes out, to the girl’s worry.

 

    _‘I’ll have to keep an eye on that one,’_ Shouta decides as the test is announced to be over.

 

    (He'll never tell anyone, but for a moment, in that massive smile… he sees that fool Yagi Toshinori.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Present Mic and Iida… so many exclamation marks. 
> 
> Please let me know what you guys think! I love reading your comments : )

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts : )


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